


It's the End of the World As We Know It

by holyhael



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Femslash, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 13:22:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2852297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holyhael/pseuds/holyhael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Holy fuck!” Ruby screams. “Fucking zombies! Zombies!”</p><p>No way. This has to be some kind of prank. Maybe the sociology kids at the local college are running a field experiment. Zombies aren’t real. They can’t be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's the End of the World As We Know It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kirargent](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirargent/gifts).



> merry christmas, autumn!!
> 
> thanks [perlukafari](perlukafari.tumblr.com) for betaing for me. (:
> 
> title taken from an R.E.M. song of the same name

“There,” Bela says to herself, tugging the knot tight. The banner welcoming the public to the thirty eighth annual Lawrence County Winter Fair doesn’t have a chance of coming down now, even in a strong breeze. She takes a moment to survey her handiwork and is proud of herself, even though she didn’t want to volunteer for this stupid thing in the first place.

“Looks nice,” Ellie says.

Bela spins around fast, not expecting her. Ellie’s looking up, but not at the banner.

Bela rolls her eyes. “Really?” she asks dryly.

“See ya around.”

Bela presses her lips together to suppress her smile and descends the ladder.

When Bela has her feet on solid ground again, Ellie is nowhere to be seen. Bela rakes a hand through her hair and picks up the leftover rope and scissors from hanging the banner. On her way to the staff shed, she passes a handful of other workers, one of whom is either really ugly, really sick, or really dead. Whichever they are, Bela makes sure to keep as wide a berth as possible.

She drops her tools with the rest of the fair’s stuff, then crosses her arms and looks around. Neither Ellen Harvelle nor any other adult supervisor is around, save for Chuck, but he’s too engrossed with his pencil, notepad, and bottle of cheap liquor to give her orders. Bela’s free and clear, at least until an organizer finds her, and they’re easy to avoid. She slips between the carousel gates and a hot cocoa stand, and she is free from the fair, at least for now. The sound of honking geese outbalances the cacophony of the carnival constructions. The field’s flock congregates at a puddle twenty yards from the tree Bela makes a beeline for.

She smells Ruby before she sees her and wrinkles her nose. “Seriously, Masters?” she says.

Ruby’s head pokes around the tree, lips wet. She smiles up at Bela. “Hey,” she greets and brings her bottle back up to her lips.

Bela rolls her eyes. “How long’ve you been out here?”

Ruby shrugs. “Dunno. Not as long as them.”

Bela follows Ruby’s halfhearted hand wave to her left. A dark figure stands on the edge of a sidewalk, and for as long as Bela watches them, they remain immobile, facing the fair. They’re too far away for Bela to make out any distinguishing features, so if she has to describe them to a cop they’re shit out of luck. It better not come to that; she doesn’t fancy meeting any more law officers, even if she’s playing a witness rather than a suspect.

“Want any?”

She looks back down at Ruby to see her proffering her bottle to her.

“How polite.” She rolls her eyes. Ruby smiles and takes another drink. Bela leans her shoulder against the oak tree, throwing a glance to the mysterious figure. Her gut churns, tells her something’s not right. Should she approach the person?

She bites the inside of her lips. Mind made up, she pushes off the tree. “I’ll be right back,” she murmurs to Ruby, who makes a vague grunt of acknowledgement. With her shoulders squared, Bela marches across the field.

“Excuse me?” she calls out, her voice instinctively mellifluous, showing that she’s not a harm. The figure doesn’t show any sign of having heard her. Maybe they’re deaf. _Deaf and dumb_ , Bela thinks, then is disgusted at herself.

“Think we should call the cops?” Ruby asks, surprising the hell out of Bela.

“God, fuck,” she curses with a hand over her adrenalized heart. She throws a glare over her shoulder. Ruby at least looks apologetic. As apologetic as Ruby gets, anyway. Bela breathes deeply for several moments. “With you smelling like a brewery? Smart idea, Masters.”

Ruby stands shoulder to shoulder with Bela and scrutinizes the figure with her. They wear a tracksuit, and their hair is damp with sweat. Their face is downturned, but Bela thinks they should still be able to see Bela and Ruby creeping up on them, even from their peripheral vision.

“You should go find Ellen,” Ruby says. There’s a thread of caution in her voice. Bela swallows her own dread and nods.

“Yeah, good idea,” she agrees. She takes a step backwards, unwilling to look away from the figure for fear of what might happen if she does. Which is silly. What would they do? They look dead.

An ear-piercing shriek makes Bela flinch and the geese take abrupt flight. Cool dread turns her blood into ice. The fairgrounds don’t look any different from when she left, but that doesn’t mean anything. Something is wrong.

Ruby hisses, “Bela.”

It’s all the warning Bela has for what she sees next.

The immobile figure that drew her so far into the field is immobile no more. It walks with intent toward them, a snarl on its lips. Its eyes are bottomless black pits, but Bela swears it’s staring right at her and promising death.

“Run!” she orders Ruby and herself. What the hell is happening? Why aren’t her legs getting the memo? “Run!”

The creature lurches forward, raking a hand through Bela’s hair, but she’s off like a dart, taking off back toward the carnival. Ruby is on her heels.

“Holy fuck!” Ruby screams. “Fucking zombies! _Zombies_!”

No way. This has to be some kind of prank. Maybe the sociology kids at the local college are running a field experiment. Zombies aren’t real. They can’t be.

Pushing wooden cutouts of reindeer aside, Bela and Ruby break into the carnival only to find more black-eyed creatures, maliciously and indiscriminately attacking everything that moves. Bela is helpless to watch as one of Santa’s elves are captured, and their head is ripped from their body by a former ranch hand.

Zombies it is.

“Shit,” Bela swears under her breath.

Ruby grabs her by the wrist and pulls her into a run. She feels like her lungs and legs will fail her any moment, leaving her at the mercy of merciless zombies. God, why didn’t she apply herself more in gym class? All Bela has is her cunning, and what’s that worth up against bloody zombies?

Absolutely nothing.

A zombie grabs her from behind, arms circling around her waist and dragging her out of the throes of the pack. Her arm is wrenched out of Ruby’s grip, and when Ruby stops, turns around to find her again, it’s too late to save her. She screams at Ruby to get the hell out, save herself. Another zombie catches Ruby in its sights, and she bolts. Tears stream down Bela’s face as the zombie pulls her further and further away from the crowd. Bela doesn’t stop struggling, twisting against its grip and kicking for all she’s worth.

The zombie doesn’t go for her brains like she expected, instead pinning her down on the cold dirt and bringing out a knife. Bela’s struggles increase when the blade comes down on her skin. She screams and screams, and as the knife bites deeper, she sends out a prayer to be saved.

All of a sudden, the zombie’s hand goes lax and the knife falls to the ground with an aborted clatter. Bela opens her eyes to see a silhouette standing above her, ponytail flowing in the breeze. A hand is offered to her, and Bela takes it.

“You-” she gasps, and when she’s on steady feet, she gasps again. “Ellie.”

“Come on,” Ellie urges, tugging the hand she still holds toward the back of the tent. The zombie lays on the ground, decapitated, hopefully dead for good. Bela sidesteps it on the way out of the tent.

“I could kiss you,” Bela gasps. Her eyes roam over Ellie’s face: she looks sweaty and tired, but also like she snorted a whole cup of caffeine.

At Bela’s joke, she cracks a smile, but it quickly fades when she looks over Bela’s shoulder and presumably sees zombies. “Later,” she says, reaching into her tool belt for a knife, which she hands to Bela. Bela hesitates to take it. “You aren’t armed are you?”

“It’s not like I prepare for the apocalypse everyday,” Bela says, snatching the weapon.

Ellie’s smirk is regrettably short lived. God damn zombies, interrupting Bela’s game. “We gotta get going. Come on.”

They run together to the parking lot. Bela spies corpses between the cars, and she swallows an urge to vomit. Ellie snakes through the vehicles, leading Bela as far away from the parking lot entrance as possible. In the corner of the lot, a white truck sits. Ellie pulls out a large set of keys from her tool belt.

“Why do you need so many bloody keys?” Bela asks. She’s tempted to punch the glass window open, because she thinks she hears zombies coming for them - maybe the corpses have reanimated - but she knows Ellie will have her head if she damages her baby like that, apocalypse or no.

“Never bothered to count,” Ellie grunts. “If the world keeps going the way it’s going though, I guess I’ll have to lighten the load. Aha!”

She jams the key into the lock, turns it, and opens the door. She reaches over to unlock the passenger door for Bela, and Bela climbs in gratefully, slamming the door shut behind herself and locking it. Her heart beats so fast she wonders if she’ll go into cardiac arrest. She takes a few deep breaths to calm herself, and when she feels better, Ellie is by her side, offering her an unopened water bottle.

“Thanks.” She never realized how parched she was until the water hits her tongue. The bottle is half empty before Bela realizes maybe in this new apocalyptic world she needs to be more conservative. She wipes her hand over her lips. “Thanks for saving my ass.”

“Hey, what’re girlfriends for?”

 


End file.
